


Whatever You Need

by collapsed (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Biting, Grinding, Humanstuck, M/M, No actual sex, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Roughness, Scratching, Sexual Content, Sloppy Makeouts, Sorry Not Sorry, Trans Karkat Vantas, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5230361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/collapsed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not been a pretty evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Need

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things: 1) It's rough but not graphic, 2) the end where Karkat talks about what was bugging him might be triggering for some 3) this isn't really affiliated with my previous fic "I Don't Know What I Want" but the same people.
> 
> [Listening Suggestion: Maroon 5-One More Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwK7ggA3-bU)

                It’s not been a pretty evening.

                He fucking takes his nails to your back and you gasp and grind against him some more. Damn. It feels like he’s trying to sharpen dull kitchen knives and just succeeding in shredding your back, tearing your skin open to get to the muscle underneath. Like he’s trying to imbed himself inside you in the most painful way possible as you dance against the couch, until you and he are one being, twice the mass, one badass, giant woman…

                In retrospect you ought to have put Steven Universe on pause when he came through the door.

_“Hey Dave. DAVID.”_

_“Karkat?” Your head shot up from the laptop you were staring at. He was closing the door, being kind of quiet. You were surprised to see him. Not because he came through the door, you gave him a key, but because he was supposed to be somewhere for a family reunion thing this weekend._

_You really should un-learn to expect the typical from him._

                Karkat brings your attention back to him by biting down on your bottom lip and pulling like he was trying to tear into a slab of meat. Which you guess is what you were at the moment. Kissing Karkat right now was like making out with a starving hyena, and you were really not 100% what to do other than be that slab of meat he seemed to need.

                _You were expecting him too plop down on the couch and complain some. Or pass out. Or brag about what he did this time to make another conservative family member hate him. Or even just be neutral. You were NOT expecting him to attack you before you even had time to register whatever he was feeling._

_He flew from the door to your lap on the living room couch, and decided mashing your teeth together was a good idea. You didn’t ask, just kissed back (you hoped he wasn’t expecting something nice, you had Cheetos breath) until you had to lean back to breath or pass out._

_“Karkat what the fuck…” you said as fast as possible._

_“Just don’t…”_

_“Don’t what?”_

_He just responded by grinding down on your dick and biting your neck with the intent to harm, which just elicited a groan from you and your mildly masochist tendencies._

“Dave,” he growls on your collarbone and you kind of want to scream. He digs his hands into your lower back, where you conveniently have a couple bruises from strifing with Bro that morning (Spoilers, your ass was, of course, handed to you). It hurt like hell but you weren’t going to complain. He presses harder, biting your collarbone like you did something wrong, like he was trying to make you pay for something. You had no idea what _you_ did, and he would be pissy at you rather than trying to fuck (or something to that degree) so someone must have done something and now he was taking it out on you.

                _He attacked you, he’s attacked you like this before. Under normal circumstances like this you fight back, take control, unwind him and let him come down. You start to fight back by pressing your hands hard into his waist and try to situate him to how you would like him, when he stops. So you stop._

_“Don’t,” he said._

_“Don’t what?”_

_“Just don’t fight back.” His voice is quiet and his head is hidden in your neck. You don’t even have to question him. You loosen your hands and just loosely hold them around his back._

_“Whatever you need.”_

                He took no time at all, digging his hands into your biceps, resuming his mauling of your body, which brings you to your current situation. You’ve lost track of how much time you’ve been on this couch with him tearing your lips to shreds. His beautiful sharp teeth have cut up your tongue, and turned your neck and chest into a decent copy of Van Gogh’s Starry Night sky. You can feel where your skin has been torn open on your back and the imprint his perfect ass is leaving on your thighs.

                You realize that Karkat’s just one big mass of pure anger right now and has decided that you must be the neutralizer before he just consumed himself and collapsed into a black hole. You hoped you were doing the right thing because he wasn’t slowing down, and he was starting to scare you. He kept he kept pushing harder, scratching deeper. There were definitely cuts on your abs, and you could taste the rusty blood moving through your mouth as he swept his tongue around yours, shoving it back as far as he could into your throat. It’s bitter as all hell, but you can’t bring yourself to stop, not when Karkat seems so desperate. You’ll give your all to him, blood, sweat, and tears, if it means he’ll feel better from whatever’s got him bothered so bad.

                You moan around him and hear him groan back like an answer. Sweat is dripping from both of you in this hot apartment. His fingers drag up your sides to rest just over your throat as he crams himself into your crotch. You couldn’t decide whether or not you were in heaven or hell. He’s fucking chafing your dick but you’re still hard as hell, leaking, and dying to sink into the wet heat you can feel radiating from his crotch. But he hasn’t made a move to undress or touch either of you, so you won’t either. You’ll put up with it, to be whatever he needs of you.

                But he pulls your hair, and your commitment to be his punching bag backfires because your head is screaming at you. Tears start leaking out from your eyes and you can’t take the pain, the beating.

                You feel like you’re being dragged over the ground and you can’t take it.

                You panic.

                “Ow, ow, ow, stop, stop Karkat, I can’t, I can’t.” You’re babbling, your whole head rings out with pain.

                You feel him rear back, hands against his chest, as yours remove themselves from his back to hold the sides of your head and squeeze your eyes shut. You had no idea you were rocking a headache that bad. You take the glasses off and try to take a couple steady breaths out and pull yourself together, stop your ears from ringing, your heart from racing. It doesn’t take long. You ground yourself pretty quick, out of habit, counting the 3 things you can feel and 2 you can hear, and reminding yourself that it’s just Karkat, and he’s probably freaking out much worse than you are right now, which is why you agreed to be his punching bag in the first place. The combined body ache plus minor panicking as Karkat got harsher instead of his normal slowing down probably just caused you to freak out and get a headache. You’re fine.

                You’re fine.

                You open your eyes to look at him, still sitting on the edge of your lap. He’s shaking, and further observation tells you he’s crying and not breathing correctly. Your head still hurts, but your reasoning clears and you reach one shaky hand for the back of his head.

                “Shh, baby.”

                He lets out a sob. “Dave, I’m…”

                “Breath, baby.” You bring his head into the crook of your neck and use a hand on his waist to shift him so that he’s nestled nicely against you to cuddle. He collapses in as you predicted and outright begins to cry as if he were five years old.

                “Dave, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry…”

                “Breath, baby.” You whisper to him and he just whines into your neck, choking on his own air. You fumble underneath his sweater, risking dismemberment, and tear down the zipper on the front of his binder. You put his hand on his stomach and feel him fill with a hundred percent more air than before.

                “Breath, baby,” you murmur into his hair as he steals his chance to take deep breaths and slow his crying. You breath with him, cheesy as fuck, to help you both calm down from the violent high. He relaxes in increments and you find contentment in just resting there with him. Your palm is on his hip, and the other hand is tangled in his hair. His fingers trace across your chest. There’s a song playing from the TV; you are so far behind in Steven Universe now. It doesn’t matter to you in the slightest.

                Karkat shifts so that he’s cradled in the crook of your arm and the arm of the couch, face still hidden in your shoulder, legs across yours rather than spread. You take the hand that lingered on your chest into your own, the one that had on his waist and kissed the top of his head. He let out a shaky breath.

                “I’m so sorry Dave,” he says quietly.

                “It’s okay,” you say.

                “No it’s not.” You brush the hair out of his face as he turns his head to look you in the eye. “I should have said something rather than jump you without asking if it was okay, not tried to tear you to shreds, take my anger out on you…”

                “Shh baby,” you tried, to stop him from working himself up into a nervous fervor.

                “DON’T ‘ _Shh baby’_ me, I’ve been so shitty to you, for you, I’m so sorry, I’m so abusive and stupid and I forget that you’re fucked up too –“

                You let him talk on, quietly humming and rubbing your thumb into his knuckles. He starts to lose words pretty quick and cry again but not the wailing of before. Just silent tears. You sit like that until he stops again.

                “You know,” you start, “I would have stopped you before you even got the chance to start if I was uncomfortable with the idea of you using me as an outlet. If it wasn’t clear to you before, I did give my consent.”

                “But you nearly screamed for me to…”

                “Stop, yes. At some point I started to rock a massive headache, and didn’t know until you pulled my hair, which caused me to panic.”

                “Headache… Dave, I – I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.

                “You’re forgiven. Had I been a little more focused I probably would have eased you down and let you know that I probably needed things to be a little bit gentler, but I wanted to make sure you got what you needed so…” you broke off.

                “Thank you Dave.”

                “No problem bro.”

                “Are we still friends?”

                “Of course Karkat.” The word _friends_ echoes hollowly around your ribcage.

                Karkat’s quiet for a moment.

                “We’re both so fucked up.” He let out a barking laugh and you chuckled at him. He sighed.

                “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked him. He mauled you over _it,_ so you might as well know what _it_ is.

                “It’s stupid.”

                “And - ?”

                “I got there and lasted barely fifteen minutes. Mom’s brother was already drunk off his ass when he saw me. He started saying how much he missed his favorite _neice_ and when I corrected him nephew, he started ranting that if I just got _banged between the legs_ then I would discover that I was actually a girl. I was just going to leave him alone until people started agreeing with him and trying to talk to me, all saying _Karen_ and _she-_ and I just couldn’t. I left Aradia there and fled. I don’t know why I even bothered to think going was a good idea in the first place.”

                “Holy shit. You should have just decked him right then and there.”

                “I should have. What sucks the most is I haven’t reacted that badly to transphobia in a while. I’m usually apathetic, but I don’t know. It’s just been so long since I’ve been exposed to it, I suppose.” Tears leaked from his eyes.

                “That explains a lot. I’m so sorry Karkat.” You gripped him a bit tighter and he just let a long breath out.

                “Huh,” Karkat said.

                “Hmm?” you answered.

                “I didn’t even know I was holding my breath that long.”

                “Yeah that happens when you’re upset,” you said, immediately changing the tone of your conversation from serious to joking around.

                “Thanks, you dick,” Karkat laughed, “I know that… Speaking of dick –“

                “I’m not going to lie, it’s chafed to death man, gonna need buried in the trenches, in the walls with the rest of the brave soldiers that have fought bravely against Karkat’s terror… ”

                “Please shut up. I swear to God your rambling makes me want to sew your mouth shut sometimes.”

                “Mmm, but you love this mouth. You wouldn’t do that. You’d be so sad.” You leaned down to him.

                “Sometimes you know I’d think I’d be able to do it and live somehow, but you’re right, as always.” He leaned up, and you shared a gentle kiss. Nothing special, just comfortable. You broke when Karkat snickered

                “What?” You frowned against his mouth.

                “Nothing. Just… Imagining your dick covered in dirt.”

                “Kinky. If that’s what you’re into baby.”               

                “Oh god.” He pushed you away. “I never want to have sex with you again.”

                “Sad face.”

                “Did you seriously just say _Sad Face_?”

                “Yup.”

                Karkat huffed and got up off you to stretch and put his binder back in place. You stand to stretch too, and turn the TV off. You’d restart your series later, and perhaps coerce Karkat into watching it with you. He’d love Steven Universe.

                “Hey Dave?” he asks, and you turn to look at him. He’s got Mayor in his hands, who seems to have finally woken long enough to realize that there’s a visitor, and is avidly trying to lick his face. Karkat tries half-heartedly to dodge the dog’s kisses, to no avail.

                You take Mayor from his hands. “Yeah?”

                “Can we go get food? I haven’t eaten in a while, and I have to confess that I spent the rest of my money on gas to get back. Aradia was supposed to pay for that but since I left without her...” he shrugged.

                “Yeah, sure. Chinese okay?”

                “That sounds fucking great. And can I stay the night? I don’t want to go home.”

                “Of course Karkat.”

                _Whatever you need._

**Author's Note:**

> Breath baby  
> Breath baby  
> Your fingers on the rock  
> Your palm on the stone  
> Your eyes on the inside  
> Your bones on the soul  
> \- How to Make World Unity Salsa by Juan Felipe Herrera


End file.
